


Full Moon

by Silverwing26



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Biting, M/M, Scratching, Shota, Underage Sex, YOOOOOOOOO, ciel is stubborn, demons always know, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2377430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverwing26/pseuds/Silverwing26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When did this happen? When had trysts in the darkness to alleviate his pain, his frustrations, his nightmares that threatened to overtake him in his waking hours become this? When had this thing awoken inside of him? It was like a beast he fought to keep in check, if only to keep the demon from the satisfaction of knowing he set the thing free. Yet there it was, howling to break the night, to shatter the stillness, to bite and claw, and tremble. The boy turns his head towards the moon and the countless stars glittering beside it and the fire behind his eyes blazes to life in the cold white glow. His lips raise impishly at the corners. Why should he not partake in what was his?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soulless_lover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulless_lover/gifts).



He stands at the window with the curtains pulled open in haste. The full, pale moon hanging heavy in the cloudless sky casts cold luminescence over the boy. Through his white nightshirt, the outline of his thin form can be seen. He has been dreaming and awoken with a start. For once, the dreams are not those of faceless ghouls in the dark, bending and breaking him. He is not sure if these dreams are better. He has awoken with his bed linens damp from his perspiration and his heart thudding in his chest. His skin nearly glows with his sweat and his cheeks grow rosier as the images his sleep-laden mind provided for him flash behind his eyes over and over again. 

With small hands, he pushes open the large windows and the crisp autumn air blows into the room. His bangs struggle against the breeze, sticking to his forehead and with an irritated swipe, he pushes them aside. One blue eye and one marred one stare up at the full moon, so pale, so beautiful, so like his dreams. He grits his teeth in frustration. The situation utterly vexes him and he grips the sill with both hands, closing his eyes and letting the sting of the autumn air cool his cheeks. 

Closing his eyes was perhaps not the best defense against the pleasures that plagued him in sleep. For in the dark theatre of his mind, such a show plays before him. Oh, that long white neck and hair of pitch black falling alongside that devilishly handsome face, and the boy finds he is subconsciously trapping his bottom lip between perfect, white teeth. Long, skilled fingers tipped with claws trace over his skin and his lips part to let beastly groans fall from them. His skin prickles with gooseflesh at the memory and he locks his legs where he stands to stop from trembling. For as the wind blows across him, the heady scents of fall leaves and decay on the air mix with cinnamon and clove and the boy’s eyes open wide with the shock of it. 

He spins on his heel, expecting to see him in the doorway, with that infuriating smirk that says he knows everything that has transpired behind closed doors, closed lids, closed windows. But there is nothing there but the shadows cast by his elegant bed. Fine, he thinks to himself. I will just calm myself and then go back to bed. And the boy paces his room in front of the open window. A gust of wind blows his nightshirt and the hem brushes against the soft flesh of his rear. A chill rushes along his spine as he recalls a lewd tongue tasting his flesh and hair tickling him with maddening gentleness, and the way his skin chilled as the bastard chuckled and blew his sweet breath across him. 

The night air, the pacing, his utter frustration do nothing to alleviate the arousal coursing through his veins. His dreams have been too vivid, too damn pleasurable. He recalls fangs against his shoulder and his soft fingers idly look for teeth marks that surely won’t be present. He could call for him. One word into the darkness and the demon would be there. He would alleviate this ache, this need and the boy could go back to sleep. Though, he would know then. He would know how the boy had awoken with his demon under his skin and in his mind and how his entire body was calling to have his demon deep inside him. The devil would laugh, and the boy would grit his teeth in frustration. 

When did this happen? When had trysts in the darkness to alleviate his pain, his frustrations, his nightmares that threatened to overtake him in his waking hours become this? When had this thing awoken inside of him? It was like a beast he fought to keep in check, if only to keep the demon from the satisfaction of knowing he set the thing free. Yet there it was, howling to break the night, to shatter the stillness, to bite and claw, and tremble. The boy turns his head towards the moon and the countless stars glittering beside it and the fire behind his eyes blazes to life in the cold white glow. His lips raise impishly at the corners. Why should he not partake in what was his?

“Sebastian.”

As predicted, he is there. The boy blinks slowly with the moon blazing behind him, the crisp breeze ruffling his night clothes about his small form, and when he opens them again the demon stands in the doorway, his hand across his chest. All that can be seen in detail of the demon are his eyes smouldering in the shadows and those crisp, white gloves. The rest of him melds into the darkness, but the boy knows his lips are curled and amusement twists the handsome face into an unholy smirk, a facsimile of a smile. 

“Yes, My Lord?”

He decides it doesn't matter when this happened. The scent is stronger with Sebastian standing in the doorway. The heat racing beneath his skin flares with man’s dark presence pressing against him from across the expanse of the bedchamber. The little Lord’s blood sings in his veins at the sound of the devil’s voice, already deep and honeyed. 

The demon knows what has transpired; he can tell from the rumpled linens, from the scent of the boy’s skin and his arousal, from the thrumming of a quickened heartbeat inside a narrow chest. Yet he makes no move to enter the room fully. Ciel’s need is almost palpable, and with twisted pleasure the demon watches him fight with his desires.

“Come here.” 

Ciel’s voice is as clear and crisp as the autumn night, the command in his tone unmistakable. The demon obeys and glides to where the boy stands in silhouette. 

“I am cold,” he states simply and those mismatched eyes stare into half-veiled fiery ones. The devil chuckles and offers to take him back to his bed, extending a white-gloved hand to wrap about his little master’s shoulders. But the small Lord is having none of this. He pushes the demon’s hand aside and reaches upwards with a thin arm, chilled and dotted with gooseflesh, sliding it along the fine material of the demon’s waistcoat. 

“I did not say take me to bed. I said I was cold.”

As the demon’s brow arches ,making those dazzling eyes sparkle with mirth, and his chest rumbles with dark musical chuckles, Ciel’s hand inches higher. His small hands wraps about the fine silk of his butler’s cravat and he pulls the devil down to face him. The small Lord hides himself in shadow, the moon illuminating his back and casting darkness before him, but he knows he can hide nothing from the infernal, piercing gaze of the devil, his devil. He decides he doesn’t much care at this moment. He has cast himself into this hell and there has never been such freedom since the ropes of heaven were unbound and the chains of their contract cast about him. 

His expression is impish with his eyes half-veiled and his lips curling slightly. The little Lord cocks his head to the side slightly and in his deceptively childlike voice whispers hotly against the shell of his demon’s ear.

“Warm me, Devil.”

And before the unholy fiend can make a comment, the boy’s hot tongue is tracing along his fine white jaw, nipping at his smooth chin, and trailing biting kisses along that long neck. His small hands pull at the knot of the demon’s cravat until it comes loose and he begins to work at the infuriatingly small buttons at the man's collar. 

Perhaps he is taking advantage of the fact the boy’s hands are busy with the arduous task of unbuttoning his shirt, perhaps it is simple the devil indulging his desires, perhaps it is a combination of these things. White-gloved hands slide down the fine white nightshirt, feeling the chill of the boy’s skin through the layers of cloth. They slip beneath the hem of his nightclothes and trace feather-light touches over the soft curve of his little Lord’s rear end. The cotton is so smooth, so soft, and his skilled touch so light that Ciel moans through his kisses, the sound catching against the back of his teeth as he bites feverishly at the perfectly smooth flesh. The demon’s hands cup the velvety mounds in his palms and squeezes them in time with the erratic breathing ghosting across his bitten flesh. 

The boy has worked the buttons free from their holes and plunged his hands beneath the fine cloth feeling the hard planes of the demon’s chest. His skin is unnaturally warm or perhaps that is just because the small master’s hands have become quite chilled. 

“You are mine,” he breathes against the demon’s skin. His roaming, hungry tongue, at the mercy of the lustful thing awake inside of him, flutters and laps against the flutes and hollows of the devil’s collarbones. His hands pull fiercely at the perfectly pressed shirt, trying to expose more of the spicy-scented skin and in frustration he pulls hard enough for buttons to go flying across the darkened room. The boy hears the first growls beginning to emanate from his beast, his demon, his dark lover and the fire burning beneath his cold skin begins to pool in his stomach. 

With soft growls just starting to pass the demon’s lips, his hand slides over smooth, chilled skin. He can feel the boy’s pulse thrumming, can feel his warm breath quickening against his skin. Slowly, so slowly, the devils long fingers slide up his little Lord’s torso. With maddeningly light pressure, he traces over the boy’s navel, causing him to squirm, and he earns a sharp bite in return. Sebastian merely laughs softly and feels his own length beginning to harden. He traces a soft fingertip over one of the frosty little master’s nipples, already hard and sensitive with his arousal and the chill in the air. The devil smiles wickedly at the gasp he receives in return and at the way the boy rises to his toes to suddenly wrap those spindly arms about his neck. 

“Ah!”

He cries out with the sudden pleasure and his arms entwine about the devil’s neck. He presses his soft lips against the underside of Sebastian’s jaw and his fingers intertwine in black hair, tugging at the silky strands. His body acts of it’s own accord, pushing into that soft warm gloved hand pinching and rolling his sensitive nipple back and forth, while his hips rock backward into the soft kneading hand behind him. 

It is not enough. Not nearly enough. He moans against the devil’s skin, straining on his toes, his body stretched with pleasure coursing through him. He is trembling both from the cold and from the delicious things those hands, and those evil chuckles are doing to him. He finds Sebastian’s lips and runs his warm pink tongue along them before pausing to stare into the bottomless depths of hell reflected in those red eyes. His lips curl into an evil smile and those pearly white perfect teeth descend upon the devil biting at his lips, his little tongue thrusting into that hot depraved mouth. 

The devil growls softly against the biting, his arousal surging to life feeling those small fingers against his scalp and his small Lord’s hot, probing tongue against his own. His kiss is deep and brutal, it is devouring and lascivious. His inhuman fangs lengthen in his jaw and he sucks on the boy’s tongue, grazing it with prominent, sharp teeth. Short, broken gasps are his reward and the boy breaks the kiss and looks at his fiend.

“M...More... Sebastian. I want more.”

The boy’s voice is heavy with want and his eyes darkened and shining with lust. 

“Shall I take you to bed then?” the devil questions and there is dark mirth in his voice. 

His voice. Sebastian’s voice is like a song, the unholy bedroom hymn in the only sacred ground the boy recognizes. His legs ache as he continues to stand on tiptoe, kissing and biting at the skin of the demon’s chest. 

“No. You have not warmed me yet.”

The boy is being stubborn. He knows it. He knows it and he doesn't care. All that matters at the moment is this craving howling inside of him. All that matters is the one thing that can sate him. All that matters is that Sebastian calm the beast inside that he has created. Ciel feels those talented hands on his body, smells the spicy scent of his skin, he feels the devil’s hot breath against his face. He feels his aching arousal bobbing as he trembles from his efforts and all he can think of is how much more he wants.

“Little brat.”

The devil smirks before pulling his glove from his hand and letting it fall to the floor, bathed in cold moonlight. He wraps those warm fingers about the boy’s neck and forces his head up. His tongue has snaked from between his lips to caress the flawless soft skin of his little master’s jaw. The little Lord’s skin, so sensitive, tingles beneath his wet kiss and in a moment the devil is sucking on one pierced earlobe. 

“Ah! Sebastian!”

The boy moans the devil’s name and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end with the sensations racing beneath his skin. His body is stretched, long and lean. His fingers dig into the wool of the demon’s tailcoat to keep himself steadied.

Soft chuckles fall against the boy’s skin and that hand slides down Ciel’s body. His skilled fingers make no work at all of popping buttons as they go and soon the thin shirt is hanging open, exposing the pale chest. His pupils narrow to slits and his hellishly hot mouth descends on the little Earl once more, drawing wanton noises from him. His hand curls about the boy’s dripping erection and the sudden jolt of pleasure causes his small master’s body to jump and for him to whimper into the demon’s mouth. The devil growls softly in response and a thumb traces over the sensitive, throbbing head, spreading pearlescent fluid. 

“Se...Sebastian!” he calls to the devil, breaking the kiss just long enough for the broken syllables to leave his lips. Before the fiend can answer, he has drawn him back into a heated kiss, drawing the abyssal fire from the demon. The boy’s beautiful voice, the way his sensitive body moves and responds to his touch, to his very breath, has the fire in the demon’s blood nearing an inferno. His trousers are becoming uncomfortably tight and his ache to be sheathed tightly within the tempting creature becoming more than a mere annoyance. 

The hands of the devil are skilled. He strokes the boy with the warmth of his palm encircling the shaft and his long fingers sliding over the head after each stroke.Ciel’s body is trembling and his breathing fast and uneven. His little master hangs from his shoulders, from his neck, propped on his toes and that hot, pink tongue of his ceaselessly tasting his skin. When the boy spends, it is with the devil’s named howled into the darkness, as beautiful and cold as the moonlight streaming through the open window. 

The boy’s legs finally give way beneath him and he collapses. Sebastian’s arm is there to catch him and he presses Ciel against his chest, his hard length pushing against the little Lord’s thigh. When the boy looks up at his demon, there is mischief written on his face, and a cold sheen of sweat glows upon his skin.

“Sebastian.”

“Young Master?”

The boy smirks and draws the devil’s ear close to his mouth. He runs his tongue over the shell and speaks in heated whispers.

“I want more.”

The devil laughs darkly against the boy’s shoulder as his hand slowly continues to stroke his little Lord. 

“How much more?”

The devil earns a sharp bite for his impertinence, but when the boy speaks again, it is impish and playful and full of want.

“All of you. Everything you have to give. Hurry.”

The bed is mostly in darkness, but it doesn't matter. Ciel can still see those eyes glowing with hellfire above him, and he knows his demon can see every inch of him. His smile is almost coy but his hands are pulling at the demon’s shirt, at his coat. With fluid ease, Sebastian slips his jacket off and his waistcoat soon follows. The boy’s hands plunder his shirt, sliding along the hard muscles. 

“Hurry, Sebastian.”

His command is almost a whimper and those small hands slide over his shoulders, perfectly manicured nails leaving pink trails across the demon’s pale skin. 

Sebastian’s hair is tickling the boy’s bare chest. The sensation is quickly lost as that infernal mouth is soon wrapped around one of Ciel’s overly-sensitive nipples. He moans and arches into the hot mouth, his fingers grasping at the strong shoulders. Sebastian licks and nips, he twirls his tongue over aching flesh and as his oiled fingers slide against the cleft of the boy’s buttocks, soft growls begin to echo in his chest. 

So good. It was all so good. Sebastian’s mouth doing indecent things to him while his fingers slide inside of him. Ciel’s mouth falls open and little cries fall on unholy ears. His hips roll against those long fingers and for once he doesn’t care how slatternly he must look. The boy’s coltish legs spread and the demon chuckles in response. In and out, slow and deep, those fingers fill him and pleasure him and it is still not enough. 

“Stop teasing me, you bastard.”

The boy’s eyes flash in the darkness and his little nails dig into the demon’s perfect back.

“I can’t take it anymore!”

“Oh, I think you can take quite a bit more, my little Lord…”

The devil’s voice is mocking but heavy with lust and the boy can hear how aroused his fiend is. The slick sounds of Sebastian’s hand on his own length reach Ciel’s ears and for a moment the boy blushes and turns his face towards the open window. The moon is there, hanging heavy in the cold, clear sky; it is the pale being breaking the darkness, bringing salvation from the night and Ciel turns his fierce gaze back to his demon. The feel of Sebastian atop him, of the devil’s hard length just brushing against his entrance, his earthy scent and the way his muscles flex beneath the boys’ hands undo him. 

“Fuck me, Sebastian. Fuck me!”

Sebastian growls and it is wholly inhuman and beautifully seductive to Ciel’s ears. He slides into the boy, sheathing himself to the hilt and the long, drawn, pleasured cry pealing from the boy causes his eyes to blaze with hellfire. He can feel those little fingers claw bloody crescents into his shoulders, leaving reddened trails down his back. His hips roll as he thrusts again and again. He draws small cries and broken versions of his name from between the boy’s gasps and he growls with his arousal mounting in the darkness. 

“Fuck, yes! M...More... Se...Seb...”

The boy’s head is tossing back and forth on the pillows, his hair spilling about his face, flushed with pleasure. His eyes open and the seal, their mutual mark of ownership, flares to light. It casts a purple glow against Ciel’s cheek and he gasps harshly. 

“There! Yes, there!”

The devil’s hot breath falls in heavy pants, the small, sharp pains from the bleeding crescents and scratches left by small hands desperate to cling to something as he loses himself to ecstasy. His head dips and those sharp teeth nip at the boy’s chest. He drops alternatingly bruising and biting kisses along the pale flesh, marring it, further marking the boy as his and his alone. He pulls out suddenly and flips Ciel into his stomach, just as protests are about to leave his lips. Those long fingers wrap around sweat-slicked thighs as Sebastian pulls him to his knees and enters him again. 

“Seb… Ah…AH! Deeper, Sebastian!”

Ciel’s face is buried in the pillows and he finds this only makes his pleasured howls louder in his own ears. He doesn’t care. Sebastian thrusts into him and soon that is all he is aware of. He feels the weight of the devil leaning over him, feels the demon slap against his thighs with every thrust. He can feel his blood thrumming with each growl echoing in Sebastian’s chest. His fingers grip the bed linens so tightly he may be leaving biting marks in his own palm. He raises his hips higher, pushes back in time with Sebastian’s thrusts. It is so deep, so good and he is losing his head to the pleasure. He tries to call the demon’s name, tries to say anything, but all that comes from him are little cries and muffled whimpers.

“S…Ah… Ahhh…Nnng”

The devil is close. He can feel the contract on the back of his hand burning with unnatural heat. He can sense the pulsing of the contract in Ciel’s eye and it quickens with the boy’s heart, with his impending orgasm. He reaches a hand around Ciel’s thigh to grab his small cock, dripping and aching with need. He strokes the boy in time with his thrusts, with his dark inhuman growls. He leans over the boy’s back, licking his shoulders and dropping heated kisses against his shoulders. When the boy leans forward and exposes the back of his neck to the devil, he thrusts hard and deep into the boy, sheathing himself completely. His lips fall against the soft, bared skin and he sucks on it, tasting the salt from his sweat, the sweetness of his arousal. Ciel pants and groans with a pleasured whimper as Sebastian kisses him deeply enough to bruise skin as he spends deep inside the boy. 

“AH! SEBASTIAN!”

The boy cries out, feeling his arousal peak. He spills across the demon’s hand, across the bed linens. He feels Sebastian still twitching, riding out his orgasm, and he shudders with pleasure at the sensation. He can barely hear, can barely feel anything but the weight of the demon, the heat of his cock buried deep inside him. All he is aware of is a vaguely boneless, floating sensation and the pounding of his heart in his ears. They stay that way for a time, and Ciel becomes aware of the devil dropping feather light-kisses against his shoulders, down his back, one for each of his prominent vertebra. 

Their breathing has slowed and the boy stirs slightly. The demon withdraws and with an impish smirk, the boy looks over his shoulder as he feels the demon’s seed drip down his thighs. Sebastian takes him into his arms with all gentleness and lays him on his back. The boy watches with amusement as the devil inspects each of the bite marks, each bruise, each mark left upon his pale skin. 

“I’m fine, Sebastian.”

The devil smirks and bows, as best as he can with his arms around his little master. He pulls the covers up about his little Lord.

“Are you ready for sleep then, young master?”

The boy yawns, curling the back of his hand against his lips. 

“Mmm, very nearly. Sebastian?”

“Yes, Young Master?”

“Close the window. I don’t have the energy to get so cold again tonight.”

With a dark chuckle, Sebastian rises from the bed to do as he is bid. As he goes to gather his cast-off clothing, the boy cracks an eye open and smirks at his demon. 

“But I am not yet fully warm. Come to bed and make sure I don’t catch cold.”

The devil’s eyes glitter in the darkness and he bows his head.

“Yes, My Lord.”


End file.
